For the Sake of a King
by RiverRaieghn
Summary: "She watched in horror as they strung him to the tree, the noose tight around his neck, the Dwarven executioner awaiting his King's orders. With a nod of his head, the King of Erebor sentenced her father to death." The trek to Erebor is fraught with peril but there is some peril that no one could have foreseen. Revenge is sweet & soon he would know how it felt to die alone ThorinOC
1. Unshackled

**Chapter One**

She was enshrouded by constant darkness for her captors were trolls, and trolls, as everyone should know, were not fond of the sun. Therefore she was kept hidden in the depths of the cave away from their hoard and their dinner.

Shirin wanted nothing more than to cry but she had long past shed all her tears leaving nothing more than silent hiccups in their wake.

The days had begun to fade together. Each one passing painfully slow into the next until she could no longer tell one day from another. She mentally berated herself often for the decision to letup in the forest in order to attend to her wounds rather than enduring her injuries till she reached the Shire.

Shirin was waiting for the dream to end. Every time she opened her eyes from sleep she hoped she would wake to find herself once again in the comfort of her bed, but every attempt to wish such a thing into existence was futile. Instead, she woke chained to the rock wall of the cave, hungry, and cold, and frightened. The trolls brought her the food they caught and cooked, however, none of it seemed palatable and Shirin did not fancy the thought of becoming more plump and ending up their next meal.

Currently, the trolls were outside bickering, their inane chatter filtering to the back of the cave, it sounded as if they had found something to appease their appetite.

Her current predicament had afforded her the opportunity to let her mind wander. She wondered if Gandalf thought she had abandoned him when he had sought her aid.

"There must be a cave nearby."

Shirin's eyes popped open at the sound of a new voice. A voice that didn't belong to a troll. Her efforts to call out were hampered by the strip of dirty cloth tied about her mouth.

"What's that stench?"

Several voices rose up after that. Some of them coughing and cursing up a storm at the stench of the cave. Shirin winced in pain as she made a futile attempt to pull the chain from the wall.

"It's a troll hoard, be careful what you touch."

She that voice. _Gandalf!_

"Let's get out of this foul place," The deep solid voice of the first man commanded. "Come one. Let's go. Bofur! Gloin! Nori"

_Wait! _Shirin screamed in her mind. _Do not leave me! Gandalf!_

Closing her eyes, Shirin clanked her chains against the cave wall with every ounce of strength she could muster in an attempt to create as much of a tumult as she could, ignoring the pain of her already raw wrists. She filled her lungs with air and let out a loud scream against the gag praying it would be heard.

"Calm down woman."

Shirin stopped.

Her eyes flew open revealing a long dark haired Dwarf with light eyes kneeling before her. He stared at her for a moment, lost in her frightened feral gaze, it was the first time that Thorin Oakenshield had ever been caught up in a woman's gaze.

Thorin quickly averted his eyes and busied himself with her bindings. Her wrists were raw from the chains, she had been a prisoner of the trolls for no short time, and it must have caused her a great deal of pain to ring out for help the way she did. Gently, he removed the bindings from her hands and then made quick work of the gag about her mouth.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed as they just sat there looking at one another as if waiting to see what the other would do. Then, suddenly, the woman did something Thorin did not expect—she leapt into his arms.

"Thank you."

It was but a hoarse whisper on her lips, barely audible, but he had heard it. Shirin wasn't sure why she did it, delirium perhaps. That was the only sane reason she could think of for hugging a Dwarf.

"It seems as if you have found a new friend, Thorin Oakenshield," Gandalf chuckled as he surveyed the scene before him. Thorin responded by rolling his eyes as he peeled the girl's iron grip from around his neck.

"Gandalf," the girl looked up and smiled wearily at the Wizard.

"My dear," Gandalf knelt down and offered Shirin his hand. "How ever did you end up here?"

"It seems as if she was being held prisoner by the trolls," The Dwarf Thorin informed him.

"How unusual," Gandalf whispered mainly to himself as he helped her to her feet. She was weak, her balance unsteady, even with his assistance.

"Kili!"

At the Dwarf's command another came sprinting in their direction, a forlorn look on his face as he looked back longingly at the hoard of trunks overfilled with gold he was leaving behind. He looked as if he could have been the younger version of the one named Thorin. There was no mistaking the kinship, both with their wavy dark hair and light eyes, but Shirin saw the younger Dwarf's face held laughter and youth, instead of age and sadness.

Kili didn't seem to need any orders. He simply picked her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her towards the entrance of the cave. Shirin felt silly. She hadn't been carried in such a way since she was a child. It felt awkward and out of place. He didn't seem to mind though. He just smiled as he set her down in front of a tree in the shadows of the forest, giving her the once over as he did so.

Her riding clothes were tattered and worn. She wore black leggings and a white belted tunic that looked as if had recently seen battle. Dirt and soot marred her face and her hair was nothing more than clumps of clay and mud.

Kili admired her. It was no easy feat to keep oneself alive in the presence of trolls. Gently, he wiped the soot away from her face, his smile lit up as she smiled at him gratefully.

"Thank you for your kindness," she whispered in a way that told him she did not often experience it. Kili shrugged it off as he went to fetch her water.

"And such is the hidden gentleness of Dwarves."

Shirin looked over at Gandalf who had set himself up comfortably next to her, a pipe in his hand.

"If you insist on smoking that horrible pipe," Shirin muttered, her disdain for the object obvious. "Please do so away from the forest. The trees are not fond of the smoke smell."

Gandalf smiled and set the pipe down on the grass.

"Tell me, young one," he asked. "How is it that you came to keep company with these trolls? I would not have guessed you to be one so easily ensnared by such dimwitted beings."

Shirin sighed, wincing as her ribs groaned in protest at the movement.

"I received your message not long after I left Rivendell on an errand for Lord Elrond," Shirin informed him, barely looking up as Thorin came to listen to in on her tale. "I saw…" She hesitated at her words. "I was to inform the Woodland Realm of troubles seen making their way into their borders."

"Troubles?" Gandalf inquired seriously. "What did you see?"

"Creatures have come down from the mountains, Gandalf," she whispered. "Deadly creatures. Redolent of death and darkness, spinning webs of poison wherever they tread. The forests are feeling it the most."

"I went to inform the King of such devilry," Shirin continued. "He did not care for my words and I daresay he will not heed them either. I was wounded by one of his bowmen so I took rest near the clearing. When I awoke I was chained to the cave. I have been ever since."

"You sent for her?" Thorin broke in. Shirin squinted up at him from her position on the ground. Thorin looked familiar somehow. As if she had come across him before, but she could not quite place the source.

"Yes." Gandalf stated simply as he stood.

"You made no mention of a woman," He accused. "First the Hobbit and now a woman. Will an Elf be joining our company as well? Or perhaps an Orc?"

Gandalf was not amused.

"I will choose for this journey who I see fit, Thorin Oakenshield," His voice darkened. "If I say we need her, then we need her."

"I will not have a woman compromise this journey," Thorin whispered harshly so the woman would not hear. "She can barely stand; let alone hike for miles in the wilderness to Erabor."

"Shirin has many uses," Gandalf stated calmly.

"Shirin?" Thorin knew that name. "Daughter of Kanaan? You bring a harbinger of darkness into my company? She will bring nothing but death to us. I remember her people, Gandalf. They predict disaster and thus it comes to pass. Her kind engender chaos wherever they travel. I will not have that chaos among my men."

"Silence!" Gandalf's presence filled the clearing and it grew quiet. All eyes were on the bickering pair. All eyes but one. Kili looked over at the tree where the girl sat, a small smile gracing his lips when he realized she was fast asleep.

"You would do wise to listen to her council," Gandalf hissed. "If you prove yourself maybe she will grant you absolution for the misdeeds of your grandfather."

"I will not be responsible for her!" Thorin yelled stubbornly. Gandalf took a threatening step forward. "Nor the trouble she will bring."

"I will take responsibility for her."

The tension suddenly dissipated from the air as Gandalf and Thorin turned to look at the youngest of the company. He did not know the history Thorin had with her people, in all honesty, many of the prejudices his uncle bore he did not agree with.

"She is light," he continued undaunted by his uncle's glare. "And not too injured. I believe that after we find a spring for her to bathe in and food for her to eat she will do not worse than Bilbo."

Gandalf smiled at the young Dwarf.

"So be it," He agreed cheerfully, any sign of his previous mood gone. Thorin was about to interject, not happy with the situation at hand when something rustled in the trees drawing his attention away.

"Something's coming!" He warned as he drew his sword. The others followed suit. Kili placed himself between the girl and the oncoming threat, ready to take on whatever danger lay ahead.

* * *

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**xoxo **

**River**


	2. Hunted

**Hey guys! Next Chapter! I don't own anything but Shirin and the wonderful Varyan people! Hope you like it ;)**

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**River**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

_She could hear their screams resonating through the sky above the roar of the dragon. Torrents of fire rained over the city of Dale demolishing buildings and filling the sky with dark smoke. He obliterated everything in his path. The dragon Smaug swooped in and out of the city breathing fire, enjoying the chaos he was creating._

_Dragons were renowned for their love of gold and shiny bobbles and gidgets, the city of Dale was nothing to him for his eye was set on the mountain. It felt almost as if she were looking out on history but it felt tangible and real._

_Shirin cringed as the flames licked at her feet. The acrid smell of burnt flesh riddled the air around her, the cacophony of frightened screams and petrified cries for help did nothing to slow the ire of Smaug. She felt as if she should cry for them. This great city whose people were lost to flame; whose wanton death meant nothing to the great dragon. _

_Everything around her seemed eerily familiar as if she had some perspicacity into the dream. Setting her eyes on the bastion that lay in the distance against the Lonely Mountain, Shirin closed her eyes and she was there, staring at the resplendent city that housed the revered Arkenstone. _

_Shirin could picture its beauty in her mind. Flawless and full of color. _

"_It is mine!" _

_Her mind tore itself away from the Arkenstone. The voice that had spoken echoed across the cavern walls merging on the central opening where she stood watching in utter fascination as a whirlpool of gems and gold formed before her eyes. But her mind wasn't on the impending death that came her way. It was on the voice that had spoken. For it did not belong to the dragon…_

Shirin let out a strangled cry as she lurched forward from her position against the tree. The sun was shining down on the clearing, as if sensing her yearning for the rays of light, the branches of the tree subtly moved so the warmth could shine through. She drank in the brief moment of peace knowing that the quiescent moment would not last long.

It had been many years since she had dreamed of the dragon Smaug and the ruin he had brought about on the place she had called home. Her people had been had been persecuted and killed by the very people they had sought to save.

She looked around the clearing in a daze, weakness and hunger still gnawing at her like a pack of wolves. A group of Dwarves stood huddled together over a treasure trove of weapons. One, however, was not a Dwarf.

The twelfth member stood out against the others with his colored clothing, short sandy hair, and beardless face. His clothes were more aesthetic and affable than the Dwarves rustic travel gear. She guessed he was Bilbo, the Hobbit Gandalf had written her about. He certainly was not dressed for travel nor did he seem very fond of the weapons the Dwarves were mesmerized over.

Her eyes drifted to the remaining three in the clearing stood off to one side in quiet conversation. The one named Thorin stared intently at Gandalf, and his wizard friend Radagast, his face barely audible as he listened to the conversation.

Handsome was not a word she would have used to describe the stone faced leader for he was much more than that. He had an air about him that was ineffable. The man stood tall and erect; his dark clothing outlined with a fur cape and ornate accessories. Shirin did not have to wonder if he was someone of importance. Thorin radiated prominence.

"You are awake."

Shirin turned her gaze from Thorin to find Kili kneeling in front of her holding a skin of water and some bandages. With a smile he offered her a drink. Gratefully she took it, only drinking enough to ease her parched throat. He reached for her hands when someone motioned him out of the way.

"Go attend to the Hobbit, Kili," Thorin commanded. "I will attend to the girl." Kili nodded with a frown as he jogged over to the group to find Bilbo. Thorin knelt down in front of her and took her wrists in his hands.

His gentleness surprised her for she had expected his actions to mirror his abrasive tone and authoritative commands.

"Thank you," she whispered as she watched him attend to her wounds. Thorin nodded brusquely, focusing on the task at hand. He mentally hissed at the state of her. Raw wrists, tattered clothes, and bruised skin seemed to just be the surface of her wounds, yet she did not complain or ask for aid. She only showed appreciation for their actions, nothing more.

"You will stay with Kili until you are strong enough to walk on your own," Thorin informed her. "If for any reason you become a hindrance to us, I will not hesitate to leave you behind. Is that understood?"

Shirin shot him a glare, her dark eyes against his light ones, each fighting for control of the situation.

"Find me a stream or a river," Shirin broke the silence. "And you will not have to worry about me being a hindrance." Thorin gave her a bewildered look but before he could say anything further a howl erupted in the distance.

"Was that a wolf?" Bilbo asked nervously. "Are there… Are there wolves out there?"

"Wolves," One of them spoke up, his voice trembling with uncertainty. He was one of the younger ones, whose name she learned was Bofur. "No, that is not a wolf."

"Wargs!"

Kili found himself once again positioned in front of Shirin who groaned in frustration at her inability to be able to provide assistance. Thorin made quick work of the first Warg that tumbled through the crag but the second one managed to slip past him from the other side. Kili shot an arrow at it bringing it down, however, it was killed by the elder brutish baldheaded Dwarf.

"Warg-Scouts!" Thorin shouted. "Which means an Orc pack is not far behind." Kili rushed to Shirin's side and heaved her up from the ground. She tottered unsteadily on her feet still too weak to walk on her own, let alone run from Orcs.

"I'm going to put you on my back," he informed her. Shirin nodded as she put her arms around the young Dwarf.

"Nothing to be worried about," Bofur teased Shirin, who had gone pale. He knew she was still severely injured and was trying to help Kili lighten her mood. "Orcs are nothing but dull, stupid, and ugly—like Dwalin." He pointed to the baldheaded Dwarf who had taken down the second Warg.

"I heard that you cheeky bastard," Dwalin muttered as he sprinted past the trio. Shirin gave a short laugh before wincing at the movement.

"How far do you think the Orc-Pack is?" Kili inquired. Thorin shook his head unable to answer. Gandalf and Radagast stood animatedly talking to one another. Gandalf did not look pleased. Shirin closed her eyes and listened. The wind bustled about her, Kili almost dropped her in surprise as it whirled around them, twisting and turning. Kili could have sworn he heard it whispering to the girl. The Dwarves voices arose with suspicion, their weapons raised ready to strike. Shirin growled in frustration as the Dwarves outbursts drowned out the wind.

"QUIET!"

Her outburst was met by silence.

"What do you hear?"

That was Gandalf.

"They're not far behind us," She whispered. "Half a day's time coming south."

"What is this witchcraft?" Thorin pointed an accusing finger at her. "Are we to listen to the devilry of a Varyan?"

Shirin could hear many of the older Dwarves whispering darkly. She had been hoping to keep her heritage secret for the time being.

Gandalf's face grew dark. Shirin could feel the air around her become heavier, even the trees were shrinking away from the wizard in fear.

"Watch your tongue, Thorin son of Thrain," Gandalf hissed. "Or I should see fit to cut it out."

Thorin took a threatening step towards the wizard, hand on the hilt of his sword ready to draw.

"Enough!" Shirin yelled at them. "We do not have time for such wasteful banter. We must move or they will catch up to us before we can make our way from the clearing!"

"We can't!" Ori squeaked as he came from behind a bush. "We have no ponies; they bolted!"

"I'll draw them off!" Radagast proclaimed.

"These are Gundabad Wargs," Gandalf informed him. "They will outrun you."

Radagast smirked.

"These are Rhosgobel Rabbits," He countered. "I'd like to see them try."

* * *

The rocky plains were not unfamiliar to Shirin but even with her foreknowledge of its layout she was not much use for there were not many places to hide.

"Stay together!" Gandalf ordered as Thorin shouted for them to move. Shirin could see Radagast in the distance, his Rabbit sled dodging in and out of the rocks, enjoying the chase of the Orcs behind him.

They stood huddled behind a grouping of rocks waiting for Radagast to pass them. Shirin rolled her shoulders back to stretch them, holding onto Kili proved to be far more draining than she imagined it.

Kili readied an arrow as a stray Orc took position above them. With a nod from Thorin he stepped out from behind the rock and shot the Warg whose cry echoed across the field.

"Run!

The grass of the plains were tall and Shirin could see Kili fighting with his bow, his accuracy hindered not only by the tall grass but also by her presence upon his back.

"Kili shoot them!" Thorin ordered. Kili notched an arrow and fired but it didn't come anywhere close to the target he had been aiming for.

"Lend me your bow!" Shirin held out her hand in front of him.

"What?"

"I have an advantage being on your back," Shirin explained impatiently. "Lend me your bow."

Kili put the bow in her hands and before he had a chance to say anything more she had notched two arrows and taken out a Warg and his Orc rider.

"Where is Gandalf?" Kili called to Thorin as the Dwarves gathered together near large rock. Shirin notched two more arrows, aimed, and fired.

"He's abandoned us!" Dwalin shouted raising his weapon.

"Hold your ground!" Thorin roared.

"Set me down," Shirin whispered to Kili. "Help your friends, I can stand."

Kili nodded and set her down on her feet against the rock. He drew his sword and went to stand next to Dwalin. Shirin took a shaky deep breathe as she loosed another arrow; embedding it in the head of a Warg.

"This way you fools!" Gandalf popped up from a deep crack in the wall, motioning for the company to follow.

"Come on," Thorin ordered. "Move quickly, all of you!"

Shirin kept firing her arrows on the approaching pack as the rest of the company dove into the cavern beneath them.

"Kili go!" Thorin shouted. Kili dove in head first. "Let's go girl!" Shirin let loose one more arrow at an oncoming Warg but it surged forward unfazed. She moved as fast as she could along the rock wall but after a few steps her legs collapsed beneath her unable to hold her. Shirin dug her elbows into the ground and slid her body as fast as she could towards the entrance with the Warg fast approaching.

_Leave it to a Dwarf to leave the wounded behind _Shirin thought bitterly as she continued to crawl towards the entrance. A growl erupted from behind her. Frozen in fear; Shirin slowly turned her head to look at the Warg. His eyes met hers, dark and cold, ready to strike. A scream erupted from her lips as the Warg surged forward for the kill. Shirin never thought it would end like this…


	3. Imraldis

**Another chapter come and gone. Sorry this one is a little short. Thank you all for reading and thank you Filislady and mjg43 for your awesome reviews Keep them up!**

**Chapter Three**

Shirin's scream echoed across the plains as the Warg launched itself at her with a ferocious growl. She closed her eyes against the pain she knew would befall her. Nothing came. Curiosity getting the better of her, Shirin opened her eyes to seek the reason why the Wargs attack had not come. Thorin stood, sword soaked in blood, looking down at the headless animal with a fierceness to him that made her cower in fear as he strode her way.

He tucked his sword in its sheath and offered her his hand.

"Let us leave," His voice was soft as he swung her onto his back as if she weighed nothing and slid them carefully down the slide of rock to join the others. Kili rushed to their side the moment they landed between the rock cliffs.

"Shirin are you alright?" Kili inquired, worry marring his normally jovial face. "I should not have let you down. I am so sorry." Shirin held up her hand to silence the babbling Dwarf, a small smile tracing her lips.

"I am well," she insisted. Kili went to reach for her so that Thorin would no longer have to bear her but Thorin merely moved on before he had the chance to take Shirin from his back. The pathway between the cliffs wound on for quite a distance, some of the spaces thinner than others, evident by the fact that Bofur and Ori had to alternate between shoving and pulling Bombur through the more narrow corridors.

Shirin marveled at the fact that not long ago they were being hunted by Orcs, armed and ready to fight to the death, and now they were laughing and joking merrily as if nothing transpired. They were all unique, each with his own different story, which Bilbo drank in like fine wine. Thorin was the only one of the Dwarves who remained silent.

"Why did you not fight off the Warg?"

Thorin broke the silence. Shirin shrugged nonchalantly. She had been enjoying the peaceful silence.

"I did not have anything to fight with besides a bow."

"Would it have been so difficult to use that as your defense?" Thorin demanded.

"Would it have been so difficult for you to help me sooner?" Shirin bit back. "What if you had tripped? Or what if the Warg had been faster?"

Thorin rolled his eyes at the girl.

"Shouldn't you have seen the Warg attacking you?" Thorn countered abrasively.

"That is not the way it works," Shirin muttered petulantly. "I cannot see everything that lays in the future nor am I able to see my own."

"That is absurd," Thorin pointed out. "What kind of…"

He was interrupted by the sound of awed gasps coming from his companions up ahead as the darkness enveloping them was cast out by the brightness of the sun that lay ahead. The Elven outpost was vast with raging waterfalls surrounded by sprawling gardens and beautiful architecture. It had been many years since Thorin had seen such beauty, even if it was of Elven make, he knew when to appreciate good craftsmanship.

"The Valley of Imraldis," Gandalf spoke with a pleased smile. "In the Common Tongue it is known by another name."

"Rivendell." Bilbo and Shirin whispered at the same time.

Thorin fixed Gandalf with a baleful glare, hand clenched around the handle of his axe.

"This was your plan all along," he spat at the wizard. "To seek refuge without enemy."

Gandalf stared Thorin down for a moment before turning away.

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield," He assured the Dwarf. "The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself."

"You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing?" He snarled as he followed the wizard down the path towards the bridged entrance of the outpost. "They will try to stop us."

"Very true, but we have questions that need answering," Gandalf stated simply. "If we are to be successful then this will need to be handled with tact, and respect and no small degree of charm…"

"So you should probably stay quiet, Thorin," Shirin offered but the smirk her small jest afforded her disappeared when she saw the dark glare the Dwarf shot her. Gandalf merely chuckled at the young girl's teasing, but she was right.

"You will leave the talking to me," Gandalf's statement made no room for argument. Thorin bit back any further remarks he had on the subject. Instead, he followed the wizard down the rocky path and across the narrow bridge. Shirin had the most beneficial view from Thorin's back, besides Gandalf, whose miraculous height reminded her of the strong magical Oak trees that grew in Fanghorn Forest. From her position she was able to see everything around them, while many of the dwarves stood around awkwardly waiting to see what was ahead of them.

"Mithrandir," Shirin's face lit up into a smile at the sight of her old friend. His voice was welcoming but his fully buttoned robe and apathetic demeanor made it seem as if they were not welcome.

"Stay sharp," Thorin whispered to Dwalin. Shirin resisted the urge to snap at him for being unhospitable.

"Lindir," Gandalf smiled pleasantly. Shirin saw Lindir try to mimic the smile the best he could.

"Have you been here before, Miss Shirin?" Bilbo asked, coming up to stand next to her and the Thorin. Shirin nodded.

"I have resided here for many years," She informed the Hobbit. "Elrond graciously took me in after my previous accommodations became somewhat…difficult."

"I see…" But in truth he did not understand. Thorin did his best to ignore the conversation between the girl and the Hobbit but something about it nagged at him ferociously. Thorin went to speak to her but the sound of an Elven horn echoed across the valley before he had his chance. Turning, they saw an Elven war platoon making their way up the bridge, armed and bearing standards. When they showed no signs of relenting their speed, Thorin unceremoniously dropped Shirin to the ground and raised his axe.

"Close ranks!" He ordered. Shirin sat, unable to stand, in the middle of the Dwarven kill circle as the Elves surrounded them, riding in a tight circle, forcing them closer and closer together. But their actions were not of an aggressive nature.

"Gandalf," Shirin heard Lord Elrond call out to the wizard as he dismounted his horse. She tried to hear more of the conversation but the bustle of the Dwarves around her made it impossible for her to hear anything besides their incessant chatter.

"No, Master Gloin, he is offering you food." She head Gandalf state impatiently. Suddenly the Dwarves all turned inwards as they debated whether or not to take the offer. Shirin sat listening to them for several moments before her irritation grew too much for her to hold sway over it.

"He is offering you food," she hissed a little more harshly than necessary but she was tired, filthy and hungry. "It is not as if you are going to decline such an offer when your packs of food mostly disappeared with your ponies."

Bifur, the one with the axe in his skull, enthusiastically muttered something in Khuzdul and soon everyone was nodding. Kili picked Shirin up in his arms as Gloin accepted Elrond's invitation.

"Lindir," Elrond called to the Elf. "Would you please assist Lady Shirin to the healing waters? I am sure she will be much grateful to be healed of her wounds." Lindir nodded and approached Kili, his hands open to take Shirin from his responsibility. Kili, however, was not keen on handing over the girl to an Elf and took a step backward in suspicion. Shirin was surprised that Lindir's glare did not shoot arrows at Kili, for that was the strength of it, but Kili merely shot the same glare back at the Elf his grip tightening on his charge.

"Kili," Shirin tried to hide her smile in her annoyance. "Lindir is a friend. I will be fine in his care." Kili but his lip, thinking over the situation, then with a sigh, he relinquished her.

"The young Dwarf has taken a liking to you," Lindir teased, his apathetic demeanor fading as he carried her into the West Garden. Shirin could feel a blush rising in her cheeks.

"He is only worried for my safety," She explained. "Dwarves have grown up to distrust Elves. Please do not take his actions personally." Lindir chuckled.

"As if I would take anything a Dwarf has to say personally." Shirin shook her head in amusement at Lindir's attitude towards a race he had never before encountered. She despised the prejudices people asserted on the minds of their people. Kili had not been born at the time of Smaug, yet, the betrayal of the Elves stung deep in his heart because of his people's dislike for them.

Silence fell between them as they continued towards the West Garden, a garden Elrond had made specifically for her. It was unique from any of the others, its flowers and shrubbery attained from every part of the land Elrond could think of, he had meant it to by symbolic. She spent most of her time in the garden, her garden. It was where she learned Elvish, learned to hold a sword and to shoot a bow and arrow.

"May I ask a personal query?" Lindir spoke. Shirin smiled at his formal questions, knowing that she would not like the question he was about to ask. He was only ever formal with her when they were either in the presence of Lord Elrond or he had something on his mind that she would not be fond of.

"You may," Shirin drawled.

"Why did you answer Gandalf's call to aid the Dwarves?"

"Because it was Gandalf who asked," She stated simply, as if it explained everything.

"Did he tell you of Thorin's origin?"

"To be honest, Lindir," She answered. "I did not have much time to ask."

Lindir's brow furrowed. The expression looked out of place on his heavenly face, marring his naturally handsome look.

"If you knew who he was you would not wish to help."

Shirin gave him a puzzled stare.

"Who is…"

"Lindir!" Lord Elrond called out as he approached them. Lindir stopped to greet him, his dismay for being interrupted evident.

"My Lord."

"Take her to the edge of the pond and then go help attend to the Dwarves for supper," Elrond ordered.

"Yes my Lord," Lindir did as he was told and gently set her down by the edge of the water.

"Wait," Shirin asked. "Who is Thorin, Lindir?" Lindir shook his head and sighed.

"I am sure you will soon find out."

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**River**


	4. Shirin's Tragedy

**Sorry it took so long to get out! The next chapter will be longer! Thank you to Taralia-Rebelle-Sky for nudging me to get it out soon. Keep on it because I am often so scatterbrained that I forget! And thank you everyone for the wonderful reviews. Remember, the more you review, the more I write! **

**Thank You**

**River~**

**Chapter Four**

Thorin exited his accommodations with a heavy sigh. He had not been fond of the Elven bathhouse but the brisk run from the troll hoard had left him in great need of one. That he was well aware of.

He wandered from his room to survey the Outpost; curious of his surroundings. The halls of Rivendell were nothing like the halls of Mirkwood, which were ominous and dreary, ensconced in darkness by the shade of the trees. Rivendell was filled with light and the beauty of the surrounding mountain with trees blooming in the sun furnishing fruit and blossoms.

He was unaware of how long he wandered about the landscape but by the time he reached the final garden dusk had begun to settle. It was unlike any of the previous ones he had visited with its plethora of various flowers and shrubs. Many of the flowers he recognized, having furnished the slopes of Erebor and Dale.

"Are you looking for something?"

Thorin turned, his hand positioned in the place where the hilt of his sword normally rested, finding it empty. He sighed as he remembered that they had been asked not to carry their weapons around the Outpost.

He turned to find Shirin standing at the edge of a small pond draped in linens of pink and white. He almost did not recognize her. Her long curly hair was free of mud and clay, its true color glimmering in the moonlight. Soft pink skin replaced the dirt and pallor it had been before. She was almost…

Thorin aggressively shook the thoughts from his mind.

"I was merely taking a stroll before the feast tonight," He stated haughtily, as if she had no right to ask. "Why, may I ask, are you out here?"

Shirin smiled seemingly unperturbed by his haughtiness.

"This is my garden you have wandered into."

"Then I shall take my leave," He offered. "Forgive me for the disturbance."

Shirin went to stop him but the sound of a horn echoed across the valley.

"What is that?"

"It means that supper is ready," She informed the Dwarf. "May I walk with you?"

Thorin contemplated for a moment, unsure of his feeling for the Varyan, but in the end he conceded to the request.

They walked in silence for some time neither of them sure what to say. Thorin caught himself eyeing her every now and again as they made their way towards the courtyard for supper. She did not seem bothered by the silence as much as he was, but he liked that she was not one to fill empty air with dull and witless conversation.

"May I enquire about something?"

Shirin broke the silence.

"Proceed," Thorin sighed.

"Where is it you are from?" She asked curiously. "You do not seem to be from the Iron Hills."

Thorin smirked.

"You are very astute, Varyan," He acknowledged. "I am from the Blue Mountain."

It was not a complete lie. The Blue Mountain had been their home for quite some time but Gandalf had warned him about sharing his true heritage with the Varyan.

"And…"

Thorin held his hand up to silence the girl before she could go any further.

"I believe it is my turn to ask a query."

"Proceed," Shirin mimicked Thorin's earlier tone. He simply ignored it.

"You knew where the Orc's were coming from," He stated. "But it was not a vision you had."

Shirin rolled her eyes.

"Is there a question somewhere in there, Dwarf?"

Thorin smirked at her fiery tone.

"What kind of magic did you use?"

Shirin bit her lip and sighed. There really was not a way to properly explain her ability, not that he would understand, especially when she barely understood it herself.

"It wasn't magic," she began trying to think of the simplest way to help him understand. "At last not as you and I see magic."

"Then what was it?"

"I am not sure how to explain it," She admitted. "The wind speaks to me like you speak to your men or as we are speaking to one another presently. It has a voice and it uses its voice to aid me when I need it."

"Can only you hear it?"

Shirin shrugged.

"It seems to be that way," She answered. "I never knew of my ancestors ever having such abilities. Neither has Lord Elrond or Gandalf."

_More Varyan magic_ Thorin thought bitterly.

"I know what you are thinking," Shirin twisted a piece of her dress in her hands. Thorin cast an indignant look her way.

"Are you a mind reader now, as well?"

"Not by any means," She assured him; her beatific smile seemed to light up everything around her. Thorin was in awe of the way she did not seem to let someone else's anger or mistrust bother her. She merely counter acted it with a smile or a slight reprimand and then went on about her way.

"But I know what Dwarves think of Varyans," She went on, her smile wavering slightly. "You think we are harbingers of evil. Spell-caster of the dark."

Thorin took a moment to analyze the girl. She was looking up at the stars, her face contemplative, as if recalling a memory.

"It must have been difficult for you to answer Gandalf's call to aid us."

Shirin smirked.

"Not at all," She assured him. "Not all Dwarves are the same. Just as not all Elves are the same or all humans. Each has their own beliefs and their own values. Your people of the Blue Mountain did nothing to Varyans—it is the Dwarves of Erebor who are responsible for the death of my people."

There was a long pregnant pause. Thorin was unsure of what to say. Now he understood Gandalf's warning.

"My people settled in the city of Dale many years before its destruction," Shirin whispered to no one in particular. "I was a young girl when my mother had the vision foretelling the destruction of Dale and Erebor by the Dragon Smaug."

Thorin did not interrupt her so she continued, "My parents went to the Varyan Council to decide whether or not to tell the King of such destruction. The council was against it. They knew what could happen if they revealed such news."

"The King had long had a sickness of the mind. A love of gold and gems and power. The Council knew the fate he would bestow upon our people if he was not convinced but my parents urged the Council that it was the right thing to do. The people of Dale opened their homes to us and gave us a place to call home as well. But the council was right."

Shirin took a shaky breathe before continuing.

"My father took the message to King Thror. He did his best to explain the situation but all the King saw was someone trying to overthrow him. It's sad really."

Thorin looked at the girl in surprise but said nothing.

"My father was exiled. Many of our people followed him but many stayed behind. One of them was my mother. She continued to do her best among them, helping in any way she could to convince people to leave the city….She was killed when Smaug attacked Dale."

Shirin stopped speaking, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Thorin did not have to be a mind reader to know that it had been a length of time since she spoke of her people.

"What happened…"

Thorin was cut off by the cheerful sound of Bofur calling their names from the pavilion.

"Get a move on it will ya!" He called loudly, waving like a mad man. "Bombur might just die from starvation if we have to wait for the two of you!"

Shirin's tears were replaced by a small smile as she lifted the hem of her dress to ascend the stairs towards the rambunctious group of ravenous Dwarves.

Thorin watched her go, admiring her lithe dancer steps, as she rushed up the steps towards his company. He could tell that in the short time they had known her his group of Dwarves had become fond of the young Varyan, especially the younger ones who had never heard the stories of their devil-craft. But even Balin, who had been there when the destruction of Erebor had been foretold, graced her with a small smile as she bounded up the steps.

It was hard to believe that someone who held such laughter in her face could be one to work such evil magic. He remembered very well the day her father came to see his Grandfather, the King. He had merely thought the claim to be absurd but his grandfather saw it as a plot to take power from him.

Thorin thought it would be the last time he would ever see the man and the young girl again, but fate was cruel and unjust. Especially to such a young girl…


	5. Secrets

**I am ALIVE! Okay, seriously though, I don't own the wonderful world of Tolkien, just my characters and her backstory and the little plot twists. Thank you to ALL of my READERS and REVIEWERS, you guys are great. Just remember, the more you review, the faster I usually write! LOVE YOU GUYS!**

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**RIVER**

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**Chapter 5**

Supper had been a rather joyous break from the solidarity and grim road she had thus far been on. The Dwarves, as they had shown her previously, had a blatant aptitude for turning rather dull affairs into laughable parties and memorable occasions.

Now that supper was done Shirin found herself roaming the hallways she had been away from for so long. History was everywhere one looked in Rivendell; its walls an unalloyed tribute to the races and realms of Middle-Earth. Even the fall of her people. She gazed up at the frigid face of the once Varyan King with a potent glare as she remembered the stories her parents once told her as a child. Her parent's candor had always been something she admired.

"Our business is no concern of elves."

Not wanting to be seen Shirin ducked behind a large pillar as Thorin entered the room followed closely by Gandalf, Balin, and Elrond.

"For goodness sake, Thorin," Gandalf tried to reason with the Dwarf. "Show him the map."

"It is the legacy of my people; it is mine to protect, as are its secrets."

"Save me from the stubbornness of Dwarves," Gandalf sighed impatiently. Shirin bit back a laugh. "Your pride will be your downfall. Show it to Lord Elrond."

Shirin swore she could hear Thorin thinking it through in his head, his mind turning like the pieces of a clock, deciding whether or not to trust the advice of an Elf.

"Thorin, no!" Balin warned his leader. Shirin peeked around the pillar to see Thorin brush his companion aside to hand the map to Elrond.

"Erebor?" Elrond asked after a moment his normally passive face faltering. "What is your interest in this map?"

Thorin went to speak but Gandalf was more swift of tongue.

"It's mainly academic. As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden text. You still read ancient Dwarvish, do you not?"

Elrond walked towards an open area to examine the map.

"Cirth Ithil."

"Moon runes," Gandalf half whispered to himself. "An easy thing to miss."

"Well in this case, that is true; moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written." Elrond informed them.

Thorin was growing impatient.

"Can you read them?"

Elrond turned to face the Dwarf his stern eyes staring into Thorin's cold ones.

"Are you sure you wish to know?" Elrond questioned him seriously. "Your quest to take back Erebor may not end as you wish it, Thorin son of Thrain."

Shirin could not believe what she was hearing. So this was the reason for Gandalf being vague and secretive in his letters; because he knew she would not willingly assist the son of Erebor's murderous king in taking back the Lonely Mountain. And this whole time Thorin had been playing her like a fool. Listening to her tale and feigning sympathy.

"Perhaps his quest will end in the same fate as his timorous Grandfather," Shirin stepped out from behind the pillar her face cold and dark, her brusque tone was not generous. "Praise be to the new king of a murderous people. May his reign be curtailed and ephemeral."

Thorin's growl resonated loudly throughout the room, dark and powerful.

"Shirin…" Gandalf's voice was gentle as he tried to temper the situation before it reached out of hand but Shirin was growing weary of his ruses.

"Do not think to distract me now," She hissed at the wizard. "You have lied to me. All of you have lied to me. Was this some kind of trickery you sought to play on me?"

Shirin could not hold back her tears.

"It is not what you think," Elrond spoke, his voice taut, giving her no sympathy.

"Not what I think?" Shirin roared, the tears falling freely. "They hunted my people like prey. Cut us down like cattle after we tried to save them and you wish me to do what? Forget that we were exiled and left destitute. No one would take us. We had become as lepers for doing what we believed was right."

Balin shifted uncomfortably in his spot, aware that the girl had every right to be angry. He too was often angry at the choices his king made after Smaug's desolation and regretted his part in her people's extinction.

"He—" Shirin pointed a sharp finger at Thorin. "Stood at the base of the gallows as my father hung and you wish me to help him retake his kingdom? What would ever possess you to believe such a ludicrous thought?"

Silence fell over the room, any form of amity that had once existed between them gone.

"If you would just listen…" Gandalf urged, his voice holding the familiar gentleness he often used to placate her when she was overwrought.

"I do not wish to listen to any more of your salacious lies, wizard!" She snapped as she stormed towards the egress. She paused for a moment and turned her baleful glare on Thorin. "You may believe that he is different from his predecessors but he will have the same lecherous and avaricious inclinations as they did, mark my words."

Thorin's eyes sparked with indignation at the comparison but before he could say anything to refute her accusation; she fled.

"Something must be done, Gandalf," Elrond spoke turning to Gandalf.

"Let the girl go," Thorin growled. "She is not needed for this quest nor, do I daresay, is she wanted." Elrond turned on Thorin, livid at his outburst.

"You listen well, son of Thrain," Elrond warned coldly. "The loss of your homeland was devastating and hard but not for one instant may you think that your suffering is akin to hers. She has lost more than you could ever conceive."

His words were met by an uneasy silence.

"Now come," Elrond added a bit less harshly. "I will show you where we can read your map."

* * *

The moon was shining overhead its gentle rays bathing the garden in tones of blue and silver. Shirin sat underneath the willow tree that stood rooted by the pond; her feet buried in the tall grass as she pondered her current predicament.

She mentally castigated herself over and over again at how she had inadvertently handled the situation. How many times had she scolded others on the importance of abstaining from prejudices and past relations? Now she was the one who needed scolding.

Closing her eyes, Shirin leaned her head back against the trunk of the tree, listening to the euphony around her. The birds had begun to sing their lullabies to the moon as they settled in their nests for the long night. The wind bustled about the garden whispering tales to her, trying its best to alleviate her pain.

"Why are you so despondent child?"

Shirin's eyes shot open at the sound of someone else's thought's intruding on her own. The voice was cold and distant, the words elegantly elongated.

Standing up, Shirin brushed off the dirt from her dress and did her best to dry her eyes as a vision of white floated her way.

The Lady Galadriel was like no other. She was graceful and wise, standing strong and immutable against the pull of time. But beneath the quiescent surface that was her façade lurked something more nefarious and domineering.

"I do not take your meaning, My Lady," Shirin answered aloud. "I have never thought that there is no hope."

"But you feel it," She replied touching her hand to Shirin's heart. "In here."

Unsure of how to respond, Shirin kept quiet.

"For so long you have wandered Middle-Earth without giving much thought to the place you once called home," Galadriel continued. "Now, for the first time since childhood, you must confront the feelings you have secretly harbored for so long."

"I did not believe that I would be full of hate," Shirin confessed quietly.

"One can never be sure of how they will feel in a situation until that situation has come to pass," Galadriel motioned for Shirin to walk with her. They left the comfort of the guardian in silence each of them merely content to enjoy the beauty that was before them.

"Do you remember the stories your parents told you of K'Var?" Galadriel questioned her. Shirin nodded.

"K'Var was the last ruler of the Varyans," She started. "It was before my people journeyed to Middle-Earth. Before the time of Men."

Galadriel smiled.

"And do you know why your people made such a journey?"

Shirin contemplated this for a moment. Many of her memories from childhood were nothing more than paintings that time had begun to obscure, some memories were more faded than others.

"Our king had become so enamored with the power that his visions had bestowed upon him that instead of using his gifts to protect our people he used them to wreak havoc on Middle-Earth."

Galadriel nodded.

"K'Var's war had all but destroyed the homeland of your people," She disclosed to Shirin. "The Elves of Middle Earth banded together to put a stop to K'Var but it was not us who put an end to his tyranny."

"My mother told me that all the Varyans overtook K'Var and presented him to the Elves as an apology," Shirin recollected. "Since our homeland was destroyed; they offered us sanctuary in theirs."

"The Elves of the Varyan War understood that your people were not directly responsible for the chaos and destruction K'Var created," Galadriel pointed out. "They were merely following the orders of their leader."

Shirin let out a small humorless laugh.

"Is this your subtle way of helping me understand that I should not begrudge Thorin for the actions of his father and grandfather?"

"I did not believe it to be subtle," Galadriel mused. "But yes, that was the moral of my tale."

"But—"

"Ah, Lady Galadriel," Shirin turned to find the Wizard Saruman striding their way. Shirin had never personally met Saruman, but on several occasions had listened in when he had come to visit Gandalf in Rivendell on business. It was not difficult to see the differences between the two wizards. Saruman was pragmatic, dignified, and concise where Gandalf was ardent in his beliefs, poignant, and had on many occasions gone off on wild tangents before remembering that he truly had something important to say.

"Saruman," Galadriel greeted with a small smile, nothing like the one she had given Shirin earlier. It was more reserved.

"And you must be Shirin, Daughter of Kanaan," Saruman bowed. "It is an honor to meet the last Varyan."

Shirin noticed his smile did not quite reach his eyes. His words were insincere.

"It is a pleasure to meet you at last as well, Saruman," Shirin smiled, playing along. "Gandalf has told me nothing but praises of you."

Saruman's smile widened as he held out his hand for her to take. Graciously, she accepted.

As she slipped her warm hand into his cold one she felt a shiver run up her back and she suddenly found herself drowning with no way out…

**TILL NEXT CHAPTER! DON'T FORGET TO REVIEWYOU KNOW YOU WANT TO ;)**


	6. Deception

**I think is a record time update! Funny thing this took me the longest to write because I had to make sure I was keeping as much as the plot line as I can without deviating from Prof. Tolkien's great work! Don't forget to review and if you do, add in who your favorite character in the book is and why.**

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**River**

**Chapter 6**

The stars shone brightly above the landscape of Rivendell, their light providing a comfort to those who looked upon them in wonder. Shirin looked around in amazement at the valley that held so much light and harmony. Rivendell had been established in a time of war and chaos when the Dark Lord Sauron sought to take his grasp over Middle Earth. In that time it had been an Elven stronghold, a last hope for those whose homes had been lost, and even after so many years it was still taking in refugees.

Shirin was grateful when Elrond decided it best to adjourn the meeting of the Elders till the following morning. Her mind was still haunted by Saruman's touch. Gandalf walked beside her, his thinning white hair fully visible without the presence of his tipped hat. He was smoking on his pipe, his aged face lined with worry under his great snowy brows. Shirin often wondered about Gandalf, who he truly was, and what origins he was hiding behind.

"I do not think you should trust him, Gandalf," Shirin advised her friend and mentor as they entered her garden.

Gandalf raised a questioning eyebrow. They had thus far been walking in pleasant silence and it was no secret that Gandalf had high hopes that it would have continued that way.

"I understand that you are reticent when it comes to Thorin," Gandalf removed his pipe from his mouth. "And I apologize for not informing you of his heritage beforehand, but I believe that you will be a skillful asset in helping the Dwarves take back Erebor. You need to put your stubbornness aside and look at the larger portrait, my dear."

There was a pregnant pause as Gandalf chewed on the end of his pipe anxiously awaiting her response.

"I am not speaking of Thorin."

"Oh?" Gandalf nearly dropped his pipe in surprise. "Oh! Forget I said anything then. It was all nonsense really. Just some babble."

Shirin let out a small laugh. They continued on in silence. Gandalf waited patiently for her to explain herself. He knew that she would not give such advice lightly or without thought.

"Whom do you speak of?" Gandalf finally inquired, his patience wearing thin.

"Saruman."

Gandalf stopped dead in his tracks and turned the girl to look at him, his normally cheerful and carefree demeanor had vanished, replaced instead by a cold dark stare held just inches from her face.

"Do not speak of things you know nothing about," He whispered harshly, Shirin's adamant gaze did not waver at his tone. "Saruman is the greatest of our order, the most powerful, and the most good. You should watch your tongue."

"_Take my advice any way you wish, Mithrandir_," Shirin warned in Sindarin. "_But I am sure of what I saw. Layers of silver and white engulfed in dark flame. It will come to him, a tool of great power, and it will corrupt him and the Leader of the Order shall be cast out and replaced."_

"And how to you know this is Saruman?" He asked in the Common Tongue.

"The same way I know that you have the Dwarves sneaking off at dawn tomorrow while the Council of Elders is distracted," She informed him. "All I am asking is that you heed my warning. Do not trust him. He may not have fallen to darkness thus far, but he will, and he will betray you."

Gandalf chewed on his inner cheek as he thought of what the girl was saying.

"I think that is enough of your council tonight, my dear," He smiled at her, but his smile fell short of his eyes. "Since you are already aware of my plan for the Company, I hope that you will join them."

It was Shirin's turn to laugh humorlessly.

"I will think on your request, Gandalf," she vowed. "But I will not guarantee an outcome with which you will be satisfied."

Gandalf tipped his hat to the girl and left her standing at the bottom of the stairs to her accommodations. She watched him leave, her heart heavy with guilt. Shirin knew he would not have sought her to join the Dwarves quest if he did not think she would have some use, but despite the fact that her head was telling her to go and forget the past, her heart did not feel the same.

* * *

Thorin Oakenshield watched the Wizard and the Varyan walk in silent companionship passed the Dwarves accommodations. He could see that even after their earlier disagreement they still cared for one another; their friendship not the least bit spoiled by the confrontation. Patches of red blotchiness marred her ivory complexion; and her fire colored hair was pinned up in a messy concoction that made her look almost vulnerable.

Gandalf would no doubt inform her of his plans for them the following morning and ask her to join them. Part of Thorin was hoping she would deny his request but another part of him wished she would consider it.

Thorin could feel someone's eyes upon his back. Watching him from a distance. He did not need to turn around to know that it was Kili.

"Speak, Kili," Thorin grunted, holding out his pipe for his youngest nephew to share.

Kili respectfully took a drag of the pipe that his uncle offered before speaking.

"I saw you hesitate, uncle," Kili informed him sighing deeply as if he was getting something off of his conscious . "Before you went to aid Miss Shirin with the Warg-you hesitated at the mouth of the cave as if deciding whether or not it would be better if you let her die."

Silence followed Kili's confession. Thorin closed his eyes in shame as he remembered the terrified look on the girls face when the Warg charged her way. Her scream still echoed in his ears.

"I am sorry you had to see that, Kili," Thorin admitted. "It was wrong of me to hesitate so. It was not the noble thing to do."

Kili gave his uncle a half smile as he handed him his pipe.

"We all have things we wish we could take back, uncle," Kili assured him. "She is a good girl. I do not know why it is you dismiss her so or why the elders of our people talk of her in hushed tones when they believe we are not in ears range, but she has done nothing but help us. Gandalf would not have asked for her assistance if he thought her countenance to be wicked."

He didn't say anymore. He knew he would not have to and so the young Dwarven prince gave his uncle's shoulder a small squeeze and went to join his friends in the comfort of a safe sleep.

* * *

Dawn was fast approaching but the Grey Wizard barely noticed as he sat under a tree in one of Elrond's gardens smoking his pipe. The Elves had begun to sing the sun awake, their voices filled with dulcet and heavenly tones. Shirin's prophecy hung heavy on his mind. Never before had he cast doubt upon her predictions, however, he could not bring himself to have confidence in her words regarding Saruman.

"What troubles you, Mithrandir?"

Gandalf smiled as Lady Galadriel abandoned her formalities to sit across from him in the grass.

"Is it the Varyan?" Galadriel asked in interest. "Your mind has long been on her people."

"She is the last of her race," He stated, his heart heavy. "She has every reason to hate the world and yet she refuses to see nothing but the good in people. Saruman believes that it is only great power that can hold evil in check. But that is not what I have found. I have found it is the small things, every day deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay."

"Her future is shadowed, even to me," Galadriel pointed out. "She is no ordinary folk."

Gandalf nodded his agreement.

"That is true," He affirmed. "Much like Bilbo she is an extraordinarily gifted person with her simple acts of kindness and love. Her power is wielded through those simple acts…" Gandalf's face turned dark. "… But there is also a darkness to it and to her. Hidden deep beneath the surface trying to claw its way out. I thought that by bringing her in on this quest, as I did Bilbo, I could help her control the darkness created by Thror."

"You would risk your quest to heal her broken heart?"

"Yes." Was the simple reply. They sat in silence for a moment, each listening to the sounds of dawn approaching.

"Why the Halfling?" Galadriel asked after a few moments. His reason for choosing such a small and under-developed race peaked her curiosity. The Hobbit certainly did not seem the type to take back a kingdom from a Dragon.

"Why Bilbo?" He asked smoking on his pipe once more, ruminating the question over for a moment. "Perhaps it is because I am afraid, and he gives me courage."

Galadriel leaned in and took his old, weary hands in hers.

"_Do not be afraid, Mithrandir," _she spoke to him, the words echoing in his mind.

Aloud she said: "You are not alone."

She tucked a loose strand of Gandalf's hair back.

"Ae boe I le eliathon," she assured him. "Im tulithon."

Gandalf bowed his head as Galadriel removed her hands from his. When he looked up, she was gone.

* * *

Shirin busied herself as she grabbed random objects and clothes from around her room. She had nothing in the way of weapons any longer, not since she had been taken captive by the trolls. However, she did have an assortment of medicinal help, a journal she wanted to give to Bilbo, as well as food and travelling clothes. Also, Ori had been asking for a book on Elven History. Technically she had pilfered it from Glorfindel's library but she knew that he would not miss it.

By the time she was done packing her belongings her pack was bulging.

"An lema?" Shirin let out a small squeak. Lindir stood poised against the door frame of her room, a small knowing smile on his face.

"Mani naa lle umien?" She castigated him half-heartedly. "You scared me."

"Manke naa lle autien?" He asked her seriously, putting his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to confront him.

"I must go."

"Mankoi?"

Shirin took a deep breath and put a hand to Lindir's cheek.

"Because Gandalf has asked me to."

"Is that the true reason, Mellon nin?" Lindir asked concern lining his perfect face. "Or are you going for a darker reason."

"I am going because I owe Gandalf," She assured him, perhaps too fervently. "That is the only reason."

Lindir stared into her eyes for a few moments trying to discern the truth. After a moment he smiled and let her go.

"Well, for such a long and dangerous journey, surely you will need weapons," He surmised.

"Unfortunately mine did not survive the trolls," She frowned. Lindir's smile widened.

"Then you will need these," He beamed as he reached behind the entrance of her room to pull out her gifts. Shirin gasped in awe at the beauty of the weapons he was presenting her with.

"This was meant to be a surprise for your next day of birth celebration," He stated. "However, I believe they will come to better use now rather than later."

Shirin felt like a child with a new toy as she enthusiastically ran her hands over the items one at a time. The bow was strong, slightly bent, and just the right height. Carved into the wood was her name in Varyan, a touching gesture. The arrows were made a light wood with metal tips and sat in an intricately carved leather quiver. The last thing he presented her with was a sword. She was not much of a swordsman but the blade was more beautiful than any sword she had ever seen. It was a traditional Varyan sword called a scimitar. It was a unique kind of sword that had a slight taper down the strait of the blade until the last third of the sword, when it angled sharply becoming deeper.

"Thank you," Shirin whispered as she attached her new gifts to her person.

"Think nothing of it, Mellon Nin," Lindir whispered wrapping her in a somewhat awkward hug. "Lle naa belegohtar." Shirin smiled holding back the tears that threatened to flow.

"Tenna' ento lye omenta," Shirin whispered letting Lindir go. She could hear the Dwarves making their way past the garden towards their planned exit. Grabbing her pack, Shirin gave Lindir one last smile before bounding from her room to join the Dwarves.

"Tenna'san'," Lindir whispered sadly; praying to the Valor that the next time he saw her she would still be the loving innocent Shirin he had grown to care for and not someone darkened by revenge.

* * *

**Translations:**

_**Ae boe I le eliathon, imtulithon – **__If you should ever need my help, I will come._

_**An lema? - **__Long journey?_

_**Mani naa lle umien? –**__ What are you doing?_

_**Manke naa lle autien? – **__Where are you going?_

_**Mankoi? –**__ Why?_

_**Mellon Nin—**__Friend_

_**Lle naa belegohtar – **__You are a skilled warrior_

_**Tenna' ento lye omenta—**__till next we meet_

_**Tenna'san'—**__Until Then_


	7. Rocky Precipice

**HI GUYS! This chapter is a little short but I hope you like it. Don't forget you can message me at any time if you have questions or critiques. Thank you everyone for the follows, the favorites and the reviews. Remember, the more you review, the faster and the more I write. **

**Love you guys!**

**Xoxo**

**River**

**CHAPTER 7**

Shirin caught up to the Dwarves as they were making their ascent out of the valley, looking back only once to whisper a quiet farewell to the wind, knowing very well it would carry her message to Elrond. She felt much more at ease out of the charade of fancy dresses that were now replaced by a pair of black leggings and a brown belted tunic, her untamed hair swept into a side braid. Wanting to ease some of the weight from her pack; Shirin sought out Ori, who nearly cried when she handed him the book she had stolen from Glorfindel.

Bilbo kept to the rear of the company looking back every now and again at Rivendell until it was no longer in view. She could tell that he had grown fond of the Elven Outpost in their short visit and she hoped one day he would be alive to return to it. If she had her way; he would.

"I have a gift for you," Shirin hung back with Bilbo as they exited the valley into the wild. Bilbo looked at her puzzled.

"It is not my birthday," He informed her. Shirin smiled.

"I know that," She laughed as she took the leather bound journal from her pack, along with a quill and ink. "But I thought you might like to record your journey."

Bilbo was speechless as he took the gifts from her.

"Thank…"

"Master Baggins. Shirin. I suggest you keep pace with us," A stern voice spoke from afar. They both turned to find Thorin observing their exchange with a deep look of disapproval on his face. Bilbo smiled at her as he rushed to rejoin the company. Shirin however would not be so easily intimated by the glowering Dwarf.

"O go and kiss an Orc," Shirin muttered in Sindarin as she stalked passed Thorin, her chin in the air, refusing to look at him. His face darkened at her irascibility. His words had been meant to keep them from falling to far behind the company and into danger. Yet she was acting as if he had put forth insults.

He had been hoping she would extend some kind of civility to him, especially since such a long journey lay ahead of them, but it seemed as if he would be wrong.

They trekked through the wilderness with little time spent for any sort of pause. The company could feel the tension between their leader and their counselor. Every attempt Thorin made to lend her aid was shirked. Any conversation that was put forth by Thorin was ignored. Finally, the Dwarf King ceased any type of camaraderie with her, seeing that his attempts were in vain.

* * *

The first night they stopped was the easiest. In the protection of the trees they were able to build a small fire for heat but the further away from the borders of Rivendell they traveled, the less comforts they were able to enjoy. Kili and Fili accompanied her most of the day, taking turns in telling her stories about their childhood. They were a welcome distraction, even Balin and Dwalin had stories to share. Ori could talk for hours on the things that he had learned from books and he always had a way to make her smile with his simple nature and revered awe for much of the knowledge she possessed and that she willingly shared with him.

Gloin told her of his family, and a small secret smile would trace her lips whenever he mentioned his boy Gimli. She knew that name all too well and the deeds that would accompany him. Bofur lent himself out as translator so that Bifur and Shirin could get to know each other as well. Slowly, they taught her hand signs to help her speak with him without the aid of another.

For the first time in her life she found people who were interested in her story and her race's history. Each night they would all sit around in a circle and ask questions regarding her people. Even the more reticent Dwarves would listen in on her tales with keen interest. But once the stories ended for the night she found herself alone, her eyes unable to close, afraid she would dream again.

It had been almost two weeks since they left Rivendell and since then she had been plagued by night terrors that got steadily worse every time she closed her eyes. It was always the same blurred images and terrifying feeling of falling into the underground. Torches were lit and drums could be heard. Finally she refused to close her eyes filling the time with her bow work instead.

In the midst of the night she would crawl from her pallet and find a small clearing to use as target practice. In this space she was safe and the worries of the world were gone. It was just her and the target. Shirin loosed several arrows into a dead tree, taking the time to properly breathe and aim. Elrond had always taught her that the memory of how to shoot properly would aid her when there was not time enough in battle. He had, of course, been correct.

Shirin notched another arrow and was ready to fire when the wind whistled a warning sound that an intruder was approaching. Silently, she swung her bow around behind her, to find Thorin entering the clearing, hand on his sword. They stood that way for a moment, as they once did in the troll cave, evaluating one another but unlike before their thoughts were far darker.

_I could kill him now,_ she thought bitterly. _I would only have to let go of my arrow._

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Shirin asked as she set down her bow and replaced her arrow in its quiver.

"I saw that your bed was empty," Thorin stated. "I thought you had been drug off by a bear. Then I saw the light from your torch and I thought I would see how you were."

"By which you mean you wanted to make sure I was not casting about dark spells."

Thorin sighed and looked around the clearing.

"You are good with a bow," He complimented her when he caught sight of her target.

"Th..thank you," She stuttered caught off guard by his sudden praise.

"How are you with that sword?"

"Adequate."

Thorin let out a humorless laugh.

"Adequate swordsmanship will get you killed."

Shirin bit back a nasty retort choosing to ignore him instead. Thorin watched as she dug her arrows out of the dead tree; one by one placing them back in her quiver for safe keeping.

"Doesn't shooting at the tree go against some kind of Varyan code?" Thorin asked dryly. Shirin couldn't help but smile.

"The tree is dead," She informed him, running her hand against the trunk. "It can no longer feel anything at all. We have that in common."

"Well," Thorin shifted uncomfortably. "Do not stay out too long. We do not need our position given away by the light of your torch. Goodnight."

She watched him go, a look of pure astonishment on her face as he hurried back towards the company. She wondered what she had said to make him run off so suddenly.

* * *

The next few days proved to be unsurprisingly miserable. The cold had begun to settle in around them, and with it, the rain. No one was more miserable looking than Bilbo who was still casting longing glances back towards Rivendell when he thought no one was watching. The forest faded into rock and ridges with no shelter, they sat huddled against the walls of the mountain passing around pipes to keep warm.

The day after that the weather cleared enough for them to continue their journey without the peril of being blown off the edge by the fearsome winds. But by nightfall the howling winds had returned and with it came the thunder, the rain, and their friend lightening. Bilbo was practically shaking in fear as Bofur caught him before he could slip off the edge of the crumbling path into the crevasse below.

"Shirin," Dwalin roared at her. "Can't you talk to your wind friends and tell them to shut it! We're gonna get blown off this mountain!"

Shirin rolled her eyes, her temper flaring.

"I'll do just that Dwalin," Shirin snarled sarcastically. "Why don't I have a conversation with the rain and the lightening as well, we can have one big party."

"If you think it will work," Bofur teased from behind her, a mischievous smile glued to his face.

"We need to find shelter!" Thorin bellowed above the roar of the wind. He motioned for them to begin moving again but Shirin stood motionless looking out at the vast emptiness that was before her. She felt something strange pulling at her, hard as rock but soft as sand. She was so occupied with sorting out the mysterious presence she felt that she did not notice the huge boulder hurdling her way.

"Watch out!" Dwalin shouted from the rear. Startled by his outburst, Shirin jumped from her reverie.

"Shirin!" Bilbo cried out. Shirin turned to look at Bilbo. Her foot caught on a small rock causing her to lose her balance just as the boulder hit the side of the mountain sparing her life.

"It's okay," she smiled at Bofur who had gone ghost white from her close encounter. "I'm—" Shirin's eyes widened as she felt the Cliffside crumble beneath her feet, the rocks giving way to her weight and the sudden impact of the boulder. The last thing they heard was her scream echoing across the mountain side...

**DUN DUN DUN... cliffhanger! **

**Review :) **


	8. Deadly Predicament

**wOOHOO! New Chapter! Ok, so, I do need to get a few things straight, because I just got a message that made me oh so mad. So let me explain a few things for you. **

**First off: Thank you all for the reviews and the favorites and the follows. I told you, I write faster and longer when you review. **

**Secondly: I have had a few people message me saying that they don't like the fact that it's movie verse and yada yada. That is your opinion, keep it to yourself, its not constructive. I chose movie verse, because out here in the middle of the desert I don't have access to the Hobbit book, I didn't plan on writing a Fanfiction when I came to Egypt so it wasn't among my travel items. I chose the MOvie-Verse because I own one of the original scripts, so I can just take dialogue I need from that :)**

**and Thirdly, I do realize that my writing is a little different. I am actually writing this fanfiction because my publicist wants me to start writing creative fiction and I use fanfiction as kind of like practice. I have never written creative fiction really, I am a technical writer, so I apologize if I am not very flowing or not descriptive enough (or overly descriptive) this is all new to me. **

**Thank you for reading my rant. Love you guys**

**XOXO**

**River**

**Chapter 8**

Thorin brushed the torrents of rain from his eyes as he looked on in search of shelter. He motioned for the company to follow him. Slowly they made their way across the rocky precipice with great care to keep their backs to the mountain side elsewise they had a greater chance of falling. Thorin looked back to see how his company was faring but all he saw was Shirin; eyes glazed over, unmoving. He could see Bofur poking at her, trying to get her to move but nothing he did seemed to help.

Then:

"Watch out!'

Dwalin's outburst from rear had Thorin ready for battle, but what was coming their way was nothing he could have fought. He watched as the boulder came hurdling at them with an unstoppable force.

"Shirin!" Bilbo cried out. Thorin's eyes moved away from the boulder to the Varyan; his eyes locked on her as she turned to see why Bilbo was calling her name. She lost her balance as she swiveled around to face him, reeling backwards towards the edge of the precipice just when the boulder collided with where her head once was.

"It alright," She smiled at Bofur who was as white as a snowcap mountain. "I am…"

Thorin saw her eyes widen with fear and his gaze followed hers. The cliff side was crumbling beneath her feet. Thorin lurched forward pushing passed anyone who stood I his way. E reached out his hands just as she began to fall.

The last thing they heard was Shirin's scream echoing across the mountain side.

"Shirin!" Bofur cried out at the same time Kili screamed; "No!"

He had not been fast enough. Her small hand had slipped through his before he could grasp it. Thorin stood motionless as he stared at the spot where she had just stood. If only he had been a moment sooner.

She's go—" Bofur could not finish the sentence, praying that it was not true. The Dwarves stood in silence for a few moments as the storm around them continued to rage on. Fili put his hands on his brother's shoulder. He had never seen Kili so forlorn. His brother stood frozen staring at the place where Shirin had fallen, tears in his eyes. Had he not been so close to his brother, he might have just thought it to be rain.

"We must continue on," Thorin took a shaky breath as he drew himself up. "We must find shelter."

No one moved.

"I said move!" Thorin roared above the crack of thunder, his face dark and full of anger. Slowly, the company trudged forward, thunder cracking all around them. "We must get out of this thunder storm."

"This is no thunder storm!" Balin called out. "It's a thunder battle! Look—"

The company stared up in awe at the Stone Giants above them. They looked as if they were carved from the jagged mountain itself; dark and grey.

"Well bless me," Bofur said with awe. "The legends are true! Giants! Stone Giants!" He was so caught up in the massive grace of the Stone Giants he did not see the small boulder hurdling his way.

"Take cover, you'll fall," Thorin bellowed to the Dwarf. Bofur dropped to the ground, his head hanging just over the edge.

"Shirin!" Bofur cried with joy. "I've found her! She's alive!"

The crowd whistled and cheered. Thorin rushed over to the Dwarf, shoved him aside, and peered over the edge. Shirin lay unceremoniously on a small section of the cliff side. Breathing a sigh of relief, Thorin called out to her.

"She's not stirring," Oin worried. "We will have to find a way to her."

"Kili," Thorin ordered. "Grab the rope. I will lower down."

Kili nodded and threw the rope to his uncle who hastily tied it about his waste and handed the other end to Dwalin. Carefully, the Dwarf King lowered himself over the edge of the cliff and descended down to the helpless Varyan.

"Shirin," he called to her once he reached the ground. He bent down and gently brushed her hair from her face to reveal a large gash across her forehead. "Wake up." He shook her gently trying to rouse her from her unconscious state. She let out a small moan of pain; her eyes fluttering open.

"Thorin?" She mumbled. Thorin breathed a sigh of relief as he helped her stand.

"You need to climb on my back," He ordered her. Shirin did what he asked of her without question.

"They're alive!" She shouted over the wind. "The stone hillside is alive!"

"We are well aware of that!" He shouted back as they made their ascent back up the cliff. "Keep quiet while I concentrate."

"But…" Thorin shushed her. Suddenly the mountain shuddered beneath them; shifting sharply.

"Hold on!" He warned. Shirin tightened her arms around him, digging her face into his shoulder as debris of rocks came pouring down on top of them.

"Would this be a bad time to tell you we are on a Stone Giant?" She asked. Thorin growled in frustration as he continued to haul them up the cliff. A second Giant approached and slammed into them, sending their Giant stumbling backwards as they hung on for dear life. The Giant slammed into the mountainside, sending Shirin and himself smashing into the rocks.

"Go, go!" Thorin yelled at his comrades when he spied a free ledge. He launched Shirin and himself off the side of the Giant's leg and onto a steady ledge with half the company following suit. Thorin hauled the Varyan to her feet, hissing at the steady flow of blood coming from her head wound, and shoved her towards Bofur.

He searched for the rest of his company to find them still clinging to the leg of the Giant who was forcibly battling the other. The battle continued around them with rocks and boulders pouring down from sky. Thorin had never been worried in all his life, not since the fall of Erebor. He found himself in a situation where he knew little of how to deliver them out of it. Thorin watched in horror as the Giant crashed into the mountain, crushing the remaining company with its force.

"NO!" Thorin bellowed in despair as the Giant fell way in to the chasm below, revealing the empty ledge where his company had stood just moments before.

"Kili!" Shirin sobbed rushing forward along the ledge towards where she had last seen him with Thorin just behind her.

_What have I done? _ She thought. _How could I not have foreseen this?_

Shirin came to a grinding halt just beyond the bend and let out a cry of relief when she saw the rest of her friends agonizing in pain from their close encounter.

"We're alright!" Balin shouted above the groans of his companions. "We're alive!" Thorin smiled from behind Shirin who rushed over to help detangle the Dwarves from one another. Kili smiled at her as he enveloped her into a hug, much to the dismay of his watching uncle.

"Where's Bilbo?" Bofur cried out in alarm as they frantically searched around. They found him dangling by his hands over the edge of the cliff.

"There!" Ori pointed out.

"Get him!" Dwalin and Bofur lunged towards the cliff side where Bilbo hung.

"Grab on!" Bofur shouted. "Come on!" Bilbo reached up his free hand trying with all his might to reach the one Bofur had out for him but he couldn't seem to get anywhere close to it.

Shirin watched from behind Thorin as the Dwarves heaved and tugged to no avail. Thorin rolled his eyes at the sight of them and swung down onto a small ledge next to the Hobbit, grabbed a fistful of his clothed and shoved him up to the awaiting Dwalin.

She saw it before anyone else had the chance. On of Bilbo's flailing legs struck Thorin m sending him careening off the ridge. Shirin skidded forward, wrapping her hands around his wrist, and held on with all her strength. Thorin growled against the pain of dangling by his arm, but with Dwalin's assistance, he was pulled up to safety.

"I thought we lost our burglar," Dwalin stated, out of breath. Thorin turned his head sharply to look at the frightened Hobbit.

"He's been lost since he left home," Thorin snarled loud enough for Bilbo to hear. "He should never have come. He has not place among us."

"Leave him be!" Shirin barked at the ungrateful Dwarf. Her ferociousness marred by the fact that she was leaning against Kili for support, pale and covered in blood. "You have treated him like nothing more than unwanted baggage on this journey of yours. When you should be thanking him for leaving his home to help aid you in a quest that is not his. In taking back a home that is not his."

"If I want your opinion, Witch," He whispered darkly to her so that only she could hear. "Then I will ask for your opinion." Shirin lifted her eyes to meet him, light clashing with dark.

"I should have let you fall," She hissed before ducking beneath Kili's arm to join Bilbo where he sat. Thorin's lip turned upward in a snarl as he stalked towards the open ledge in search of Shelter knowing they would be far from safe until they found some.

"Dwalin," He called to the Dwarf, who followed dutifully behind him towards the mouth of a cave.

"It looks safe enough," Dwalin commented with relief.

"Search the back," Thorin ordered as he headed off in one direction with Dwalin in the other. "Caves in the mountains are seldom unoccupied."

Dwalin did as he was told, taking his lantern and shining it in every nook and crevasse he could find. After a few moments he said, "There's nothing here." Thorin sighed with relief as he motioned for the rest of the company to join them.

The Dwarves filled the cavern, each taking a duty as they prepared to settle in for the night. Shirin wiped the blood from her face as she went to look over everyone to make sure there was nothing that needed healing. Gloin was busy sulking after Thorin denied a fire to be built for the night and Balin was busy arguing with Thorin about Gandalf, who had insisted that they wait for him in the mountain before heading on. Thorin, of course, had the last word and Balin, being the good follower that he was, respected his leader's decision.

That was one thing Shirin disliked about a ruling country or state. One person held sway over all others, their decision being the one that is final, no matter the opinion or warning of their council men. Her people had blindly followed their king into battle against Middle-Earth and its people. It wasn't until their numbers dwindled to almost nothing did they take action.

She was tired of watching the people she had come to call friends blindly believe in an ill-tempered, boorish, and tyrant leader who would one day choose his own wealth over the wealth of his people. One did not need to be a Seer to know that history always repeats itself.

* * *

As per usual, Shirin could not seem to sleep. She sat huddled, back against a large rock, isolated from the rest of the company. They were always ready to give her the privacy she needed but this time Kili seemed to think that she needed someone to lay by so he plopped himself down on the other side of the rock, still attempting to give her at least some of the aloneness she craved for.

It was not that she did not enjoy being near the group, although Bombur's snoring could have kept anyone away, she was just used to being alone. Even in the halls of Rivendell many of the Elves kept to themselves, excluding her from their activities or daily chores. Lindir was the only Elf, save Elrond, who put forth an effort to make her feel welcome. But it was mainly the Gondorian child called Aragorn who had made her feel any sort of belonging.

If she were to have grown up with a sibling, Shirin thought they would be much like Aragorn, who at ten years of age, was as sweet and caring as he would be as a grown man. She had met him her first day in Imraldis and subsequently had received her first vision of the future. Until that day, her visions had been nothing but a looking glass into the past. There were days she still wished that was the only curse she possessed.

Letting out a long sigh, Shirin turned her focus to the sleeping Dwarves, to find Bilbo moving in the dark, assembling his belongings. She mentally cursed Thorin for his derogatory words against the Hobbit. Bilbo was not like them. His life before this journey had been simple and without need of fighting for survival. However, she did not believe that he would be a truant. Unfortunately, without Gandalf to exemplify his use, he seemed to have given up hope of being any kind of help to them.

"It looks as if your Hobbit friend is leaving."

Shirin resisted the urge to roll her eyes as Thorin came to sit down in front of her, using a small lantern for light.

"He would not be leaving if you had not been cruel and heartless," She snapped at him harshly, her voice low so that Bilbo would not hear. "You carp on him relentlessly. Stating that he has no place. It is a wonder that he left Rivendell."

"He should not have left his door," Thorin grumbled, folding his arms across his chest defensively.

"That is your problem!" She hissed. "You demean his existence because he does not match according to what you believe a warrior should be. You are so stubbornly prejudicial. A trait which I thought at first was Dwarvish, but now I see that it is purely you."

"The rest of your company has taken him in," She continued. "Even as we speak, Bofur is doing his best to convince him that he belongs here, because he believes that Bilbo does. Your company has opened up their hearts to Bilbo, it is you, Thorin son of Thrain, who pushes him away with your cold biting words and overt dislike for anyone that does not fit perfectly into your ideal world. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"And yet, you do not seem bothered by what I have to say of you," Thorin countered. "You are still here, despite my cold shoulder. Why have you not left?"

"Because…" Shirin stopped. The faint sound of sand falling enveloped the cave. "What is…" Shirin's eyes widened in horror when she heard it. The drums.

"What is that?" Thorin breathed, his eyes on the ground. Shirin followed his gaze. The ground beneath them was beginning to crack, sand filtering through it.

"Wake up! Wake up!" Thorin barked to the rest of the company. The Dwarves were on their feet and ready for battle.

"Oh no," Shirin choked, realization hitting her as the drums became louder. She turned to Thorin, panic on her face. "I didn't realize. I'm sor…"

Suddenly the floor opened up beneath them and they were swallowed by the darkness.

**HA HA. Another cliffhanger ;p **

**Thank you for all the reviews. Keep them up!**


	9. Rock and Bone

**Now this is definitely a record update for me! I loved this chapter sooo much that I just couldn't stop writing. Now I need some sleep! Dhalmi93, I am tossing you a rope for the cliffhangers, and I made it especially long for future cases ;). Thank you guys so much for the reviews and the follows. I told you I update faster when you review more ;). YOu guys are wonderful. Thanks for the support.**

** XOXO**

** RIVER **

**Chapter 9**

Kili, who had been awake listening to Bofur and Bilbo, caught the sound of Shirin talking with his uncle. He found it funny how, despite the fact they seemed to distrust and abhor one another, they always seemed to be saving each other and his uncle seemed to be drawn to her for conversation. Even with his own people his uncle was rather laconic and isolated but with Shirin his uncle seemed to have more to say, even if it was just a brusque conversation.

"What is that?" He heard his uncle ask quietly and then: "Wake up! Wake up!" Kili was on his feet prepared for battle. He looked around at the cave, but there was no sign of an enemy. Then he heard it, the sound of drums in the distance.

"Oh no," Shirin choked, her hand on her mouth in horror. Kili moved to her side, looking every way he could for where the drums were coming from. Then it dawned on him. He looked down at his feet, a slow crack spreading between them. The drums were coming from beneath them. "I didn't realize. I'm sor…"

Suddenly the floor opened up beneath them and they were swallowed by the darkness. Kili flung himself at Shirin and grabbed onto her waist as they were plummeted down a long cavity. He cradled her head against his chest as they tumbled into walls and one another until they finally landed in a large heap at the bottom several moments later.

"Are you alright?" Kili asked his charge, when they stopped moving. Shirin nodded, grateful that they had been one of the few to land at the top of the pile. Being squashed by Dwarves was not the way Shirin had imagined her death. Kili sat up and looked around. They were captive in a large wooden cell with…

"Goblins!" Kili cried as he shoved Shirin behind him but they didn't stand a chance. Shirin cringed as several of the invading Goblins grabbed her hair and her arms pushing them forward along the narrow overpass. They bit and clawed at them with their long filthy nails as if they were cattle. The company did not have time to reach for their weapons before they were ripped from their person and their hands tied in front of them.

"Oy," One of the smaller Goblin's jeered at her. "This one ain't got e' beard."

"Eets a girl," Another Goblin came up from behind the other, running his long claw against her cheek causing her to wince in pain at its unexpected sharpness. "Perty girl, too." He ran his claw down her front towards her navel. Not liking where he was going, Shirin sent him reeling backwards with a head-butt.

_SNAP_

The pain nearly brought her to her knees as she cried out when the end of a whip made contact with her back. Bifur and Kili rushed forward with Bofur and Dwalin to shield her from any more abuse. They were rushed forward across rickety bridges and rotting wooden walk ways, making their way towards a large spire of rock.

There were Goblins everywhere she looked; lining walkways and bridges above them, jeering and growling as if it was some kind of spectacle.

"_Rock and boulder!_

_Skin and bone!_

_Feel the whip;_

_Feel the claw!_

_Come on down to Goblin-Town._

_Crush you down;_

_Make you soup;_

_Come one down to Goblin-Town!" _

They were hauled before the throne; occupied by a significantly large Goblin, who was hacking and spurting up vile fluid.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" The Goblin accused. "Spies? Thieves? Assassins?"

"Dwarves, you're malevolence," one of the Goblins responded.

"Dwarves?" The King Goblin repeated surprised.

"Found them on the front porch," he said with pride.

"Well, don't just stand there," The King ordered. "Search them!"

The Dwarves fought against the invasion of Goblin privacy as they searched them up and down for weapons.

"What are you doing in these parts?" The Goblin King asked, looking at them with deadly interest. No one made a sound.

"Well then, if they will not talk, we will make them squawk!" The King clapped with joy. "Bring out the Mangler! Bring out the Bone Breaker! Start with the girl!"

Shirin cried out as one of the Goblins grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her forwards towards the putrid Goblin King.

"Let us see how this one sings beneath the whip!"

Shirin turned back to look at Kili. There was pure fear in her eyes as they shoved her down to her knees. Thorin stood back, hidden amongst his company, watching as they raised the whip.

"Wait!" Thorin stepped forward to face the Goblin King, his face held a menacing glare.

"Well, well, well, look who it is!" The Goblin smiled darkly, exaggeratedly bowing to the Dwarf King. "Thorin son of Thrain; son of Thror; King under the Mountain."

He stopped, a wicked grin replacing his darkened smile.

"Oh," He snickered. "But I'm forgetting, you don't have a mountain! And you're not a king! Which makes you—" The Goblin pondered his thought for a moment. "Nobody!"

The spectators of Goblins laughed, a hyena like laugh, jumping up and down in glee.

"I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head," The Goblin continued. "Just the head, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak, an old enemy of yours? A Pale Orc astride a White Warg?"

Thorin, who had been ignoring most of what the foul creature had been going on about, looked up at him with disbelief in his eyes.

"Azog the Defiler was destroyed," Thorin declared, but even he knew the truth of the Goblin's words. "Destroyed in battle long ago."

"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" He asked with a cruel and malevolent giggle. He turned to address a small Goblin scribe sitting upon a perch. "Send word to the Pale Orc, tell him I have found his prize." The Goblin gave a small squawk of a laugh before he turned to leave.

"No!" Shirin shouted knowing what would happen if Azog were to come. She concentrated as hard as she could on the small little wretch of a being as it tried to slither away. Without warning a gust of wind swept up about them attacking the little creature. A small smile graced her lips as the vile creature hung on for his life while the wind bustled about him in a rage.

Thorin had never seen her use the wind in such a manner before. He stared at her, unsure of what he was seeing. Her head was tilted to the side, focused on the Goblin, a black smile on her face. Her eyes were glazed over like they had been on the mountain, her skin pale. If he didn't know any better, it was almost as if she was enjoying the chaos she was creating.

"Stop her!"

Her scream echoed across the cavern just after the whip cracked upon her back, making her skin explode. At that precise moment the wind stopped and the Goblin went scurrying on.

She screamed again, a loud and gut-wrenching scream, as the whip slashed a second time into her back tearing open her tunic to reveal the Rune Sets upon her skin.

The Goblin King held up his hands for his minion to cease.

"What is this?" He asked, his eyes gleaming with joy. "I would know those marks anywhere. We have a Varyan in our midst."

The Goblin crowd went quiet. There was nothing but pure silence in the cavern for the first time since they had arrived. The only sound to be heard was Shirin's ragged and sobbing breathes of pain.

"You're people are the reason I am down here," He cursed at her, but the wicked smile of glee didn't leave his face. "They came with swords and magic and drove us into these caves for us to get our living off of the likes of you!"

A small whimper left her mouth as the Great Goblin lifted her up by the throat. The protests of the Company rung loud in her ears but none louder than Kili's; who she heard calling her name even as the black spots began to invade her vision.

A sudden shriek from below her caught the Goblin King off guard causing him to drop her unexpectedly to the ground.

"I know that Sword!" The Great Goblin bellowed terrified. "It is the Goblin-Cleaver, the Biter, the blade that slice a thousand necks!"

Thorin took the moment of distraction to rush forward and tried to drag the Varyan back into the protective fold of the company but it was too late.

"Slash them! Beat them! Peel them!' The Goblin ordered. "Kill the rest of them, but I want the Varyan alive! Cut off the Mountain King's head!"

The Goblins shrieked in fear as they whipped at the company with all their might and power. Thorin crouched protectively over Shirin, who was on the edge of unconsciousness, and took the blows meant for her. Thorin stood over her as a Goblin came running at them. Quickly he grabbed at its flailing arms and threw him to the side, but four more took its place and he found himself upon the ground facing a Goblin with a dagger.

Then-

Light exploded throughout the cavern. Goblins went flying and debris rained down upon them. Thorin, free from his captives, covered the Varyan with his body as the wind gushed through, leaving them all in an almost complete darkness.

Slowly, the company began to stir and with them; their captors. Thorin looked around to find Gandalf, sword ad staff raised, making his way towards them. The lights were ablaze again; and Thorin was in awe at the damage that was done. Apparently the old Wizard was of use after all.

Sighing in relief to see the old man, Thorin looked down to see how his counselor was faring. Her breathing was labored but her eyes were open, staring at Gandalf in wonder.

"Take up arms," Gandalf said in a low deep voice. "Fight—Fight!"

The Dwarves propelled into action, shoving the Goblins off them with as much force as they could muster. Thorin bent down and grabbed his sword, slicing open the abdomen of a Goblin who came his way. Thorin lent the Varyan his hand and dragged her up from the ground, pushing her sword into her grip.

Her father had been the one to teach her how to wield a sword. A lesson he had hoped to never have to teach his only daughter, but with the threat of extinction looming for their people; fighting was a necessity. She brought her curved blade around to decapitate a Goblin coming up from behind her, moving effortlessly around to sink it into another one who had come around from the right. Her steps were light and graceful, using the momentum of her movements to swoop from one target to the next.

The company had killed most of the Goblins on the Throne's platform, but more seemed to rise up from the deep; shrieking in anger.

"Grab our stuff," Thorin shouted above the noise. "Move!" Thorin grabbed her hand as he ran by, pulling her alongside of him as they followed Gandalf across the gangway and over a bridge away from the danger towards freedom.

Every step she took burned like fire down her back. Had it not been for Thorin tugging her along, she may have just given up. Dwalin led the pack; keeping most of the Goblin at bay from the front but they were too outnumbered. The bridge they stood on was surrounded. Goblin's came at them from every side. He skidded to a halt and looked back at the company while raging a battle cry before picking up a large boar-like spear and charging at the Goblin ranks head on.

Thorin twisted and turned his blade in every direction around them, holding her so tight to his side that she couldn't move her own sword. She felt particularly useless, even Balin; who was several years her senior, was wielding his sword as if he was but Kili's age. The Dwarves were beautiful in battle. Using one another without having to say a word.

"Cut the rope!" Shirin shouted into Thorin's ear as the Goblins began to swing down at them from above. Thorin relayed her instructions and dug his sword into the rope that held the bridge above them in place.

"Kili!" Shirin cried pointing at the Goblins making their way towards him. "Arrows!" Kili looked behind him, bringing up his sword in surprise just as an arrow was about to hit his head. Angered, Kili grabbed the wooden ladder in front of him and with the assistance of Bofur, Bombur, and Gloin, he managed to clear the pathway of Goblins while creating a bridge to the other half of the company.

Shirin followed closely behind Gandalf, having been unceremoniously shoved to the front of the company by Thorin, twisting and turning her way from Goblin to Goblin.

The bridge they were on broke free and they went swinging wildly towards the other side. Thorin ordered them to jump. A few of the Dwarves made it safely the first time around but the bridge swung back towards the Goblins who took full advantage of the situation, jumping to join them. Shirin got caught up with Fili in the middle of the Goblin pack, back to back, fighting to keep their enemies at bay.

"FILI!" Kili shouted from the other side. Goblins were coming from every direction on the small platform but if they didn't make it to the edge they would never make the jump.

"Bend down," Shirin told Fili, who gave her a look of confusion. "Just do it." Quickly, Fili bent down, unsure of what her plan was. Shirin planted her foot on the shoulder of a bent over Goblin and flipped onto Fili's back. Now he understood. Fili bent down farther and then launched the girl from him; watching her sail over the hoard of Goblins to the edge. Moments later she had cleared a path for him. Taking her hand they leapt off the swinging platform to safety, Fili cutting the rope holding it suspended in the air as they went.

"Now that was something," Bofur appraised her. Shirin smiled, but their victory was short lived as they set off again with Gandalf's magic tricks leading the way. Shirin's sight was beginning to blur even more as they continued on, the black spots that had been dancing on the edge of her sight were not beginning to swarm her like bees after a bear.

"Did you think you could escape me?" The Great Goblin King burst from below them, skull staff in hand, swiping at the Grey-Wizard. "What are you going to do now, Wizard?"

Gandalf's response was to simply jab his staff into the Goblin Kings eye. The king howled in pain and Gandalf took that moment to slice open his gut.

"That'll do it," The Goblin admitted slightly impressed. Gandalf sliced his throat, the bridge groaning in protest beneath them as their foe collapsed upon it.

And then they fell. Shirin had never wanted to learn to fly; she had never once envied a bird or a bee for its remarkable ability; and this was why. She felt as if her heart had leapt into her throat as they free fell before hitting the rock wall and sliding down into the depths of the mountain. The last thing she remembered was everything going dark…

**DUN DUN DUN. Another Cliffhanger *Maniacle Laugh***


End file.
